


When the World Breaks Your Heart

by mamodewberry



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Music, Alternate Universe - Never Met, Demisexuality, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rating May Change, this is not a sad fic i swear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2018-10-08 00:50:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10374069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamodewberry/pseuds/mamodewberry
Summary: Life still felt different, which was good as he didn’t want to become complacent. Though he wished, maybe a little, that he could get used to things.Never Met / Music / Coffee Shop/ College AU.





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> Who all is excited about the Free! announcements this weekend? :D I sure am! To celebrate, I'm going to start posting this fic I've had on the back burner. I'm really excited about it, though most of my time has been spent co-writing the Yuri!! on Ice fic, [Never Look Away](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8997835/chapters/20547385) with @gabapple. Due to that, I can't guarantee a consistent updating schedule, but I have every intent to see this story through the end! I don't anticipate it to be is gigantic as [Wait for Me](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5126576/chapters/11795408) was, but WHO EVEN KNOWS at this point. BUT I do promise it will not end sad. It's something I've always wanted to write, and MakoHaru is my perfect muse for it. I'm still Free trash forever and always.
> 
> Some notes:   
> -Don't let the Past Relationship tag scare you. It is not with any canon characters and it is in the past where it belongs, but it shapes Makoto's discovery of himself.   
> -Makoto and Rin's friendship is very dear to me and is very important for this fic as well.   
> -I've been to Japan once, so I'm drawing a lot of my imagery and experience from my time there. I apologize if it's not completely accurate, but I will try my best!  
> -I'm back and forth on the rating at the moment. I'm really indecisive on how much /stuff/ I want. But I know people always /want/ that, so we'll see.   
> -I have forever been inspired by @Ad_Astra's headcanon of Rin being an audiophile/musicophile.
> 
> Thank you to @gabapple for being my beta once more!

The city was loud. Busy. Distracting.

It was the opposite of what Makoto was used to. Just over two years ago he made the move to Tokyo and still he found he preferred the sound of waves caressing the shore lulling him to sleep over car horns and trains. 

“You’ll always miss home,” his mother had said in an air that spoke from experience. He didn’t try to deny her then anymore than he did last night when he used a phone app to play ambient waves. Strange how the ocean was comforting and also terrifying. 

Streets and trains remained crowded every morning and night. He didn’t mind the bodies-he liked people quite a bit- but when he came from such a small port town with humble upbringing and fashion sense, often he felt out of place amongst them. He still wore old hand-me-downs from his late father. When finances allowed it, his upgrades were heavily on the thrifty side. 

Life still felt different, which was good as he didn’t want to become complacent. Though he wished, maybe a little, that he could get used to things. At the very least, his mind and body could stop being so tired. University workload only seemed to increase with each semester. At one semester into his second year, he already had a failed quiz and he could almost feel its mark burning its way through his backpack through to his skin. He’d have to ask Rin to help him study. Again. 

He had to buy eggs for dinner on his way home. Maybe he could pick up some jerky and Pocari Sweat as an apology for wasting his roommate’s efforts and ask for a second chance. 

The train came to a stop. 

Gray clouds had loomed all day and the moment he stepped off the train, it started to rain. He was glad he didn’t have a reason to exit this station as of ten months ago. With one cautionary glance at the sky, he headed inside to transfer to the Keio-Inokashira line. Two flights of stairs and a swipe of his train pass later, he was headed towards the corridor to his platform when music reverberating throughout the enclosed station, stopping him. 

A streetside performer? It’d been some time since Makoto had seen or heard one. He couldn’t stop himself from going towards the source. Strings?

Once he got closer, he could identify the instrument as a violin. Or was it a viola? He wasn’t well-versed in the music world, but the song sounded classical as it seemed vaguely familiar. Makoto wasn’t the only one to have been distracted, as the violinist had gained a small audience. Thankfully his height gave him an advantage.

The musician was a young man, around his age if he had to take a guess, shorter and slenderer than himself. Dark hair framed soft features, his eyes remaining closed in concentration. The man swayed with the increasing volumes, scale climbs, and tempos, head resting contentedly against the chin rest of the instrument as if it were a pillow. Not quite a dance, but Makoto found himself mesmerized by the steps the man made in the space he created by the wall, bow sliding across the strings in smooth strokes. Or was it the music itself - perfect pitch and legato melody - that rooted him place?

Polite and awestruck, the audience waited until the last note dissipated into the station to give their applause. The man bowed at his waist, violin and bow cradled within his arms, and with his rise, his eyes opened. Even in the poor, poor lighting, Makoto could see they were blue. Very blue.

One by one the crowd dispersed and went about their commute.

With the pause in music, an automated announcement for approaching trains brought Makoto out of his stupor. He pulled back his sleeve for his watch and realized he had missed his train five minutes ago and now he’d have to wait another twelve for the next one.

The musician brought his violin into position once more and strung a few notes in tuning.

Makoto was his sole audience. 

He certainly had time to listen to another song…

No, even the one, albeit long, piece detoured him enough and he couldn’t chance getting into whatever trance that was again. Had he clapped with the rest of them? The thought of leaving and not showing appreciation towards the performance was horrifying. It would be odd to clap and disturb him now, but he had to offer /something./

“You play beautifully.”

The violin ceased its tuning and those blue eyes looked up at him, surprised.

Makoto could feel the blush prickle in his cheeks. With a hasty bow, he quickly strode away towards his designated platform. 

_That was rude! Don’t just run away like that_ he scolded himself. The words came out before he could stop himself, but he meant them. Didn’t leaving the scene without hearing a response seem conceited? 

Just as well. He was a coward, afterall. Chances were slim he’d ever run into the wandering minstrel again, yet he couldn’t help the guilt that weighed. 

Rain pattered against the platform roof and tracks, passengers standing or pacing in wait. 

Reaching into his pocket, Makoto withdrew his phone, flipping it open.

One missed call. Two unread texts.

How did he not feel… 

Oh. He really had been in a trance!

The call had been from his roommate, Rin. As well as the two texts. He swiped to the messages. One reminding him to pick up the eggs for dinner. The second asking why he hadn’t answered his phone.

Sighing, though grateful for the text as the errand had escaped his mind thanks to the violinist, Makoto typed a response.

[Sure thing! Sorry… I got distracted. I missed the first train, so I’ll be back a bit later.] 

Nearly seconds after the tiny envelope folded into cyberspace, his phone buzzed. [You? _distracted_ Naaah. Was it a cat?]

[Heh. Sort of.]

[Whatever. Be careful out there; it started to rain.]

[Yes, Mother.]

[Smartass.]

Chuckling to himself, Makoto closed Messages and opened his music player with one hand and reached back for his headphones in the side pocket of his backpack with the other. Scrolling through Genre, he searched for what classical music he had on hand. 

Beethoven's _Symphony No. 5, Opus 67_ and _Symphony No. 9, Opus 125_. Pachelbel’s _Canon in D Major_. 

He frowned at his uncultured library. Surely these three pieces were a given for anyone’s collection since they were so well known, used in many movies and television shows. Or included as a freebie with most devices with music players. Most disappointing was he knew that neither of these were what the violinist had been playing. 

Rin had a large music collection. Something else to consider bargaining for. 

He pressed play on his pathetic selection and pocketed his phone and hands until his train arrived. He stepped over the gap and took to standing between the door and first row of seats, one hand holding an overhead ring to steady himself as the train lurched into motion.

 

Half dozen eggs in one arm and a six-pack of Pocari Sweat and a cola in a bag in the other, Makoto reluctantly made his way up the stairs of his apartment. The peace offering items would draw suspicion, but it’s not like Rin didn’t have a sixth sense when it came to Makoto being down about something. Schoolwork was a good conclusion most of the time as that was high on his time and stress. He’d probably know the moment he saw him. It didn’t make it easy to open the door. 

“I’m home,” Makoto announced, slowly closing the door behind him and slipped off his shoes into slippers at their _genkan_. 

“Just in time. Bring me those eggs, would ya?” Rin called from the kitchen. 

If he left his backpack and other sack in the hallway, maybe he could worry about approaching the subject until after dinner? Nodding to himself and slapping on a smile, he made his way into the kitchen. 

Rin turned at the approaching footsteps, clad in his pale red - not pink, he insisted - shark apron, to receive the egg carton over the counter. His fingers barely touched the Styrofoam before he drew back, arms becoming akimbo, an accusing, thin brow raising. “All right, where is it?”

He was caught from the get go, there was no point in denying. Sighing, Makoto retreated back to the hallway to retrieve the condemning English quiz, backpack slung around his front.

Red eyes scanned the page. “Well. Looks like you remembered the sentence order I drilled into you the other night, but-”

“Seemed to have forgotten everything else.” Makoto hung his head in shame. “Oh, but, uh-” Makoto then rummaged through his bag and found another sheet with 92% written at the top, “-I did well in Development Reading and Writing!”

Rin eased off the counter and finally took the egg cartons. “Of course you would; that stuff’s your best.”

“And yesterday I didn’t do too bad on a class assignment in History.”

“Give yourself some credit, Makoto; with all that studying you do with or without me, you’ve been doing great.”

Slipping off his backpack, he set it to the side on the ground. “Three more years until I get my Bachelor's, I can’t let up, yet.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I still reserve the right to steal your books if the lights are on after 1 a.m., though.”

“I’m not in any hurry to revoke your rights.”

“Not that you _could_. Somebody has to make sure you sleep.”

Makoto responded with a chuckle while Rin returned his attentions to dinner preparations. As Makoto was about to offer a helping hand, he spotted a hair clip resting next to a pile of assorted coins and wrappers. 

Ten months ago this pink, blue, and white-striped, star-shaped clip held back auburn hair from hazel eyes. 

Soon the clip was snatched from his idle fingers, startling him from the past. “R-Rin!”

Rin sauntered to the trashcan, pressed the pedal for the lid to lift and deposited the hairclip inside, lid closing with a metallic clap. 

“You can’t just throw away someone’s belongings li-”

“If she hasn’t come back for it now, she obviously doesn’t miss it,” Rin said, dryly.

Makoto couldn’t argue that. 

“Sorry… I was cleaning under the sofa cushions. I thought it might have been Gou’s.”

“No, it was definitely Sa-chan’s.”

“Tch, why do you even bother still calling her that?”

“Habit, I guess.” 

Rin never fully warmed up to Sa-chan - Sachiko - and to this day Makoto didn’t know why. Now that they weren’t together anymore, Rin really let his distaste show when she came into the conversation. Understandable, as it was she that called the relationship off. ‘You deserve better’ came out of his mouth at least once a day the preceding month and Makoto couldn’t tell if Rin was being sympathetic or childish in proving a personal point. Either way, he knew his childhood friend meant well. 

Rubbing at his neck, Makoto changed the subject. “Is Sousuke coming tonight?” Going by the pork on the counter in front of Rin, it was a fair assumption. It had become a goal to perfect _tonkatsu_ for Sousuke. 

Rin tapped two eggs at once on the mouth of the pan. “Yeah. He’s running a bit late. I swear… if he got himself lost again… He’s only been here a million times!” Rigorously he beat the yolks.

A million was an exaggeration, but the tall and imposing figure of Rin’s boyfriend certainly was over often enough to know his way. 

The pair had met a year ago at the police academy, Yamazaki Sousuke having transferred units. Rin came home one day animatedly talking about a seemingly stoic guy who was tall and cut like a tank and when paired up, they were so in sync with each other it was incredible. 

_“Sounds like you’re really taken with,” Makoto had said and then quickly realized the implications. “I mean, you get along well with him! That’s good.”_

_ For a moment Rin’s red eyes looked to the floor, hesitating, then leveled with his, confused. “What if I were?” _

_ They’d never spoken of about it. Makoto had his suspicions of his roommate, given how little they talked about dating that didn’t revolve around Makoto’s, and passing comments throughout their young adult lives. It was none of his business to ask. “Are you?” _

_ Rin was quiet again, considering. And then his face brightened, hope and realization on his face, a chuckle in his throat. “Probably. It would explain a few things.” He then ran a hand through his hair with a sniff. “Doubtful he’d be, though.” _

_ “What makes you say that?” _

_ “Because he’s- I don’t know! Too good to be true, I guess.” _

_ Makoto frowned at that. “Don’t give up before you try, Rin. You should invite him to do something together off campus.” _

_ “Y-you’re… okay with this?” Rin asked, incredulously. _

_ “If you like him, it’s worth the effort to find out if he feels the same, too. I’ll be cheering you on!” _

_ Tears welled in his friend’s eyes, voice wavering. “Makoto…” _

_ “I want you to be happy, and if being with this Yamazaki-san, or another guy, makes you happy, then that’s what’s important. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.” _

_ With a hug and a lot of tears, Rin immediately texted Yamazaki asking about going to grab lunch that coming weekend. He received a response not five minutes after.  _

_ Rin returned home late on Sunday declaring his love for the hot officer-in-training, giving Makoto a play by play of how Yamazaki invited him over to his place after lunch and things got rapidly heated.  _

_Makoto didn’t have the heart to tell him he didn’t need to hear the details, Rin was too excited - too liberated - about his new love life, so he smiled and nodded, speaking when appropriate, trying desperately to not imagine his best friend in compromising positions._

A knock at the door sounded Sousuke’s arrival ten minutes later, and Makoto excused himself to answer it. 

“Evening, Sousuke,” Makoto greeted and let him into the entryway.

The tall man shirked out of his jacket, minding the droplets from the rain that fell and hung it on the rack. “Evening.” He toed off his shoes and slipped on guest slippers. 

“Rin’s in the kitchen.”

Nodding, Sousuke waited for Makoto to lead the way, glancing at the sack of bribes on the floor and then to Makoto, who looked away sheepishly. Upon entering the kitchen, Sousuke rounded the counter and greeted Rin by groping his rear.

Makoto politely looked away. There was a time jealousy would gnaw at his insides, even if his past relationship wasn’t quite like that. Now, it simply was rude to stare.

“Don’t grab my ass while I’m cooking, you ass!” Rin retorted, face turning crimson. “Makoto is here!”

Sousuke made a committal sound and ran his hand across his backside before he bumped their hips together, sliding into place to help with dinner. 

They tried to not be too indecent. Honestly Makoto didn’t mind these sorts of gestures, wanting them to be comfortable to express themselves. It was when things escalated beyond kissing he felt the need to retreat to his bedroom or leave the apartment entirely. He could count the number of times that had happened on one hand, though. If it were a planned romp they’d inform him beforehand.

With Sousuke being Rin’s lover and shadow, any fears he had for when he graduated from the academy and being placed in the field, diminished. Not that he doubted Rin couldn’t handle himself, he just tended to act on emotions and he worried. Sousuke would take care of him whether they became professional partners or not.

Like a jigsaw puzzle, they completed the missing pieces inside of each other and Makoto was happy for them. 

Dinner was served once the bickering of desired doneness of the _tonkatsu_ and cabbage was settled. Rin wasn’t a bad cook - trying harder recently to impress his boyfriend - but Sousuke did have more experience, thus Rin surrendered. 

“I’ll only learn if you let me do it on my own,” Rin grumbled whilst gathering plates to serve.

“And I’m still teaching you,” Sousuke countered, taking the plates from him to the table. 

Makoto shuffled around them for the glasses and chopsticks. 

The three then gathered at the table and after a uniform I _tadakimasu_ , they dug into their meal, idle chatter intermingled between bites. 

Moments like these were simple and quiet; a part of Makoto’s life he gladly accepted as something he got used to. 


	2. Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto fails at seeing the violinist again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyoooo~
> 
> This took a lot longer than planned. Yikes. The YOI fic has taken over my life. Never fear, chapter two is here! And more will come, just hang with me. 
> 
> A shorter chapter, but a nice one of some more forming of this world.

“Makoto, I’m heading out,” Rin said, knocking on the other side of Makoto’s closed door. “Wake Sousuke up on your way out, would ya?”

Emerging from beneath his comforter, Makoto muttered something he hoped sounded like he was agreeing. If he had to wake up Sousuke, that meant he had stayed the night. It also meant it was Wednesday, the day the police officers-in-training had off and Rin went to work. So did he. 

“We’ll talk about these bribes when I get back.”

Makoto jolted upright. He’d left the sacks in the genkan! “U-uh, yeah. Talk to you then…” They’d gotten so involved in dinner and TV last night, he’d forgotten. He waited for the sound of the front door to close before he got himself out of bed. Normally they’d have breakfast together, but apparently they all overslept. Except Rin. As usual. 

He walked down the hall and rapped on the door with a knuckle. “Sousuke?” The established rule was if he didn’t answer after three calls, go inside and hope for the best that he was decent. Thankfully, after the second knock Sousuke responded with something intelligible. They were kindred spirits in not being the greatest of morning people. “Looks like Rin left us some breakfast before he headed out. I was going to hop in the shower real quick. Did you need in there, first?”

Creek of the bed, sliding of denim, padding of steps and Sousuke was opening the door. He covered his mouth to suppress a yawn and Makoto made way for him, trying not to think about the way he limped down the hallway. 

Sousuke returned shortly and reentered the room and flopped face first into the bed.

“S-Sousuke!”

“Wake me up again when you’re done,” came the muffled response against pillows and sheets. 

There wasn’t any harm to it, so he let him do as he pleased and proceeded to ready himself for the day. 

When he finished in the shower, he dressed, then came back into Rin’s bedroom to nudge Sousuke’s dangling leg with a knee. A few insistent attempts later, Sousuke forced himself up to join Makoto in the kitchen for breakfast. 

Rin had left them slightly burnt omelettes on the stove to heat up and a prepped coffee pot. 

Sousuke took a sip of the offered mug and made a sour face. 

“Sugar?” Makoto slid the dish over. 

“It’s that cheap shit he likes.”

“Ah, I think we’re out of your favorite, too. I’ll bring some home after my shift. Should have gotten a new shipment in.”

“Thanks.” Sousuke took a spoonful of sugar and stirred it in his cup. He raised a questioning brow at his friend. “You ever going to let me pay you back?”

“Probably not.”

“Stubborn.”

 

Leaving Sousuke to lock up with his extra key, Makoto headed to the station bound for work. As he made his way to the platform, he couldn’t help thinking back to the violinist. He shook his head, chastising himself. Of course he wouldn’t be here, it had been at a different station. What were the odds he’d go towards Kugayama? 

The sound of a violin was preferable to the mainstream music blaring on the speakers, he had to admit.

He boarded the Keio-Inokashira line and scrunched in with the morning crowd, hugging his backpack to his chest to minimize his personal space. 

Makoto was fortunate to find employment central to his apartment and his university. It served well for days when he’d have both work and class. He applied over winter break his first year moving to Tokyo and he continued to work, finding he very much enjoyed it.

PEACE was a small coffee shop on the first floor of Odakyu Department store, a short walk outside of Shinjuku Station. Its primary customers were typically salarymen first thing in the morning. Afterwards, the crowds would die down, and then it would be mothers after they did their shopping. Then it would pick up again as the businessmen made their way back to the station and gathered for combination drinks for their evening commute. 

Makoto loved it. 

His coworkers appreciated his diligence and eagerness to please and tried to convince him to go for a manager position, of which he had to decline due to being a busy student. Standing behind the counter and wiping tables suited him fine. 

He entered the back entrance and placed his backpack in his small cubby, then plucked his apron off the hook and tied it around himself. From its pocket, he found his name tag and clipped it to his shirt. 

At the stroke of 8am, the doors to the shop opened, and a line already formed. Today Makoto was manning the coffee and pastry prep, and he awaited the orders. 

Hundreds of cups, liquid, and cream later, the stampede ebbed and he joined a co-worker in lobby clean up. 

As he bent down to empty his dustpan, he caught a glimpse of the dark-haired musician. The broom fell from its position on the adjacent booth and landed on his foot in his distraction, emitting a yelp.  

“You okay over there, Tachibana?”

“Yeah, just being clumsy like usual,” Makoto replied and picked up his mess.

The musician had been walking towards the station. Were rail stations his preferred place to play? It would make sense, considering how busy they constantly were. Good place to get tips.

Now that he thought about it, he didn’t recall seeing a hat or an open violin case to accept tips from passerbys. If he traveled from station to station, Makoto would have to remember to leave some money instead of praise. 

 

When the doors opened at 2pm for the next shift of employees, Makoto relinquished his position and returned his apron to its hook in the backroom. Grabbing a bag of toasted chestnut coffee for Sousuke, he headed out the sliding doors to Shinjuku station. 

Within the crowds, he looked around, wondering if the musician was somewhere inside or had moved on elsewhere.

It was silly to be disappointed that he didn’t see him by the time he reached his platform. It was hours ago when he’d passed by. 

The train approached and he boarded the Chuo line bound for his two afternoon classes. 

There were many times he wondered how he got accepted at University of Tokyo. Naturally it had been a hope, having held good grades throughout high school, but the process of university exams had been grueling. Rin was around to help him during his own entrance exams for the police academy, but it didn’t stop the nerves that ate at him. Then he passed and it felt like a great miracle. 

All that hard work to attend the same university as his girlfriend, Sachiko.  

Time apart by differing majors used to be a tragedy, and now Makoto felt relief. Campus was large enough, it was unlikely he’d see her in the hallways. He didn’t  _ avoid _ her - that would be cruel - he just knew she was done with him and didn’t want to make her upset anymore, and--

Okay, maybe he was avoiding her. 

Transferring universities had been a temptation he’d considered, but Makoto didn’t want to throw away the Education program he specifically got a scholarship for. 

Since middle school, Makoto knew what career he wanted. Back in Iwatobi, he had a brother and sister - twins - seven years younger than him. They were not quite a year old when the sea took their father, so Makoto had brought it upon himself to be the best older brother he could and fill in. Many years of teaching his siblings to read and write, playing with them and friends they had through the years, he knew he wanted to teach children. 

A large part of what brought him to Tokyo was gone, but he had a dream that kept him there. 

 

On his way home from class, Makoto once more couldn't help looking for the musician despite it, again, not being the station he hadn't first seen him. When he got to his transfer at Shinjuku station, he spotted the back of a dark-haired man and a violin case in hand. He'd just missed him.

Shinjuku Station must be his regular? He wasn't sure why that made him feel relieved. He'd seen many people come and go for the time he'd resided in Tokyo, seeing familiar faces as he fit into a daily routine, so why did it matter? Somehow a curiosity had been struck. Especially since he'd seen him twice in the same day, two days in a row, at the same location.

Maybe that wasn't enough evidence to confirm it.

Makoto opened the door to his apartment and kicked his shoes off by Rin’s polished work shoes in the genkan. Stepping up and walking the small distance in the hallway to the kitchen, he found his roommate removing his tie at the table,  

“Did you stay late at the office?” Normally Rin would have been home an hour ago. Rin worked as an intern translator at the corporate office of an electronic company. Makoto envied his friend for having so many skills. 

Rin wrapped his burgundy tie around his fist then set it on the table in its bundle. “A little. Then my train got delayed for an electrical problem.” He then raised a brow at Makoto, “It’s your night to make dinner.”

“N-no! That’s not what I meant. I was surprised, is all.”

“Uh huh,” Rin trailed, then prodded the familiar bag of bribes that had been moved to the table. “About these?”

“We don’t have to talk about it right now, Rin…”

“Gotta clear it for dinner. May as well do it now.” Pulling up a chair for them both, Rin took a seat and waited for Makoto to take the one intended for him. “Besides, I’ve been thinking about it since last night.”

Cautiously, Makoto sat down. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t believe you feel you have to give me stuff to help you study. I’m not an asshole, Makoto. I’d help you if you just asked. Out of the goodness of my heart.”

“I know. Probably. But I didn’t do well on that test. You stayed up late quizzing me.”

“An apology peace offering rather than a Sorry I’m Taking up Your Time peace offering?”   


“Basically.”

Sighing, Rin slumped in his chair. “Why are you like this?”

All Makoto could do was shrug. Like what? It seemed practical to compensate your friends for wasting their time.

“You bribing Sou with the coffee?”

“No?” he squeaked. 

“... So you get get him stuff and he gives nothing in return?”

“For now?” 

“Stop answering with a question. You’re surprisingly crafty. You’re just hanging it over his head, aren’t you?”

“That’s not …” Makoto looked at his backpack with the coffee tucked inside on the floor. He returned his gaze to Rin, a playful smile on his lips, “He has to put up with you. He needs the coffee.”

Clicking his teeth, Rin picked up the folded tie and threw it at him. “What’s for dinner, smartass?” 

Makoto took the tie from his chest and re-rolled it.“There’s some left over tonkatsu from last night. I was thinking cooking up some ramen or rice with it.”

“It’s just us tonight, so whatever is fine. Surprise me, how about that? How’s that for compensation for my help?”

“A weak one. I’m not returning that stuff to the store, Rin. It’s yours.”

He reached for the plastic sack and uncapped a Pocari Sweat. “Double the fee for being cheeky.” 

“Fine, fine.” The chair screeched on the floor as Makoto scooted from the table to begin dinner prep. 

Rin was too easy to tease. Always had been. 

Cooking was something Makoto wasn’t particularly good at, but he tried for the sake of fairness. Rin couldn’t do things for him for forever. All he was was a burden to his childhood friend. The least he could do was give Sousuke coffee as his own private thanks for making Rin happy. 


	3. First Movement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto makes contact with the violinist!

For the next week, whether he was going to and from work or school, he found he’s just barely missed the violinist's performance or he was nowhere to be found. Was his schedule that random?

“You seem fixated on something,” Rin said when Makoto got home on the eighth day of his odd game.

Of course it'd be obvious to his roommate. Why was he so fixated? It was just  _ odd _ enough to occupy his thoughts. To wonder who the man was and where he came from, for no other reason than simply to enjoy his music and feeling disappointed he only got to hear it the once and couldn't leave a token? “A little,” Makoto shrugged and left it at that.

Another week went by, and still he hadn't been graced by the sounds of those strings. He was starting to wonder if the musician caught onto this experiment and was avoiding the illusion of consistency. He’d have to have a job and family, right?

On the following Sunday, Makoto and a handful of classmates headed to Ikebukuro for the latest phone. Makoto tagged along, knowing very well he couldn't afford such an upgrade, but enjoyed their enthusiasm all the same.

As they exited the electronic store, old phones tossed in bags, new phones’ cellophane protection being ripped off, Makoto heard a violin. Hopeful, his head jerked up, and saw  _ him _ across the street at a small park.

He looked to his friends that were occupied with their purchases. How long would they let him stall their return home? Should they part ways? Was that rude? “Uh, guys. Is it okay if I take another way home? I just remembered something I needed to do.”

Half of them didn't bat an eye, while the others nodded and shrugged, not minding either way, or asking questions, of which he was grateful for as he was unsure how he was going to answer. 'Oh, I've only been obsessed with seeing this wandering minstrel play again.'

Makoto walked to the crosswalk and waited for the signal, a quiet plea that he wouldn't leave after the song ended. He slowed his pace and approached in a stride he hoped read this was the first time he'd happened upon him and wouldn't be recognized as the loser that ran away in embarrassment.

The blue eyes remained hidden under lids, losing himself in music as Makoto crossed in front of him. It was a different song than before, which led Makoto to believe he was an experienced musician with several pieces in his repertoire.

He kept a distance, hands behind his back, balancing back and forth on the balls of his feet to the rhythm. His eyes searched the ground in front of him for a cup, hat, or an open violin case for gratuity and there was none. The yen jingled in his fingers within his pocket while he debated what to do. It'd be rude to stop him to hand it to him. Unless he took it directly after a song to have a more personal touch with the audience? That certainly hadn't happened the first time, since people walked on by. Now he really wouldn't be able to leave the yen and run without risking being recognized.

The musician didn't move much here, and Makoto wondered if it was because there was streetside a few feet in front of him and dancing too much he'd run into patrons walking the paths behind him or the trees.

The last note didn't echo as it had at the station as there was too much City Noise, as Makoto called it, but it still somehow managed to linger like a bell toll. Taking the violin from his shoulder, the man rolled and stretched his upper body, hand still holding his instrument. His eyes opened to Makoto in front of him. He blinked more in surprise than disgust, and Makoto wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

Once more Makoto reached into his pocket and the musician held up his hand. Cocking his head to the side, Makoto waited for a response.

“I just want to play,” came a voice as low octave notes of the instrument he played.

Makoto wanted to insist, but the words were too sincere. Instead, he removed his hand from his pocket. “Oh. Well... you play beautifully.”

He turned his head to the side for a moment, then picked up his bow and violin again to his chin and strummed for tuning to go into the next piece.

Was he bashful? 

Makoto took a few steps to the tree adjacent the musician and leaned against it, debating how long he'd stay. The yen was refused, he'd given heartfelt praise; there wasn't a reason to stay any longer. Other than asking where and when he played?

No, that was rude and borderline stalkerish, wasn't it?

Music Fanatic was a title that belonged to Rin, not Makoto, yet here he was; entranced by music from hundreds of years ago. He could remember seeing other street performers playing modern music, adding effects with their cellphones and other digital devices. This man was an enigma by comparison with just his violin that looked worn with love.

If he 'just wanted to play' did that mean it was for anyone that wanted to listen and he wouldn't be weirded out that Makoto was  _ still standing there _ ?

Trying to find a reason was becoming exhausting. He found something he was interested in, and that should be enough. He was curious about the music and the musician – wandering Tokyo sounded dangerous! - and wanted to know more.

Having done what he came to do, he took that satisfaction as he left to the nearest station, looking forward to the next time they'd meet.

 

If the violinist had been in Ikebukuro, he wondered how far his travels took him and how often he'd visit the same places. He'd have to live somewhere nearby. Still, that wasn't something you'd ask someone you've just met and didn't know their name. For now, he'd try to put together the puzzle of the mystery that landed itself in Makoto's life.

Rin continued to tease him, developing more and more the shit-eating grin. Makoto couldn't explain it to him anymore than he could himself.

Makoto exited through the east exit at Shinjuku as the musician changed positions throughout the stations itself and was pleased to see, er,  _ hear _ , he had been right. He stayed towards the back, attempting to remain inconspicuous. If the musician did do anything to acknowledge him, he couldn't tell. He hadn't expected it, anyway. The songs were enough.

The following day, he tried entering through a different exit after class, and there he was, entertaining a large crowd of students that would be late to their first class of the day. He felt comfort in seeing he wasn't the only one that found amazement in the young man's skills.

Not only did he travel, but he seemed to pick popular locations. If he didn't want to profit, what did he want? An audience. Reputation?

Another week of seeing him off and on at station stops that weren't too out of Makoto's route, he saw him outside the window of PEACE.

He was seated on a bench across the street under a tree. It was odd, considering how he only ever saw him standing with violin at the ready. Naturally, he would need to sit and rest  _ eventually _ .

The morning rush had just ended and it was about his break time. With a smile, Makoto asked a co-worker to ring him up a standard cup of coffee. He slapped the lid on the steaming cup and stuffed a packet of sugar and cream in his apron and walked across the street.

This time, he  _ could _ see the recognition in his blue eyes, though was unsure if it was for better or worse.

Steeling himself, Makoto held out the cup to him. “Would you take a cup of coffee as compensation for your music?”

Blue eyes looked up at him, then back at the coffee cup in his hands, then back again.

Did he not like coffee? Was he more of a tea guy? “S-sorry… I shouldn’t have assumed you’d-”

“Cream,” the violinist said, gaze drifting back to the cup, shyly.

Makoto reached into his apron pocket for the cream cup and handed it to him with the coffee by the cap so the other man could easily grab it by the sleeve. Months of handling hot drinks, it didn’t phase him anymore. 

With little preamble, the man removed the lid of both cups and poured half the cream inside, recapped, then gave it a few swishes, then contentedly held it in his hands. To let it cool?

“Can I sit with you?”

A dark brow raised at him.

Yeah. He didn’t know why he asked, either. “Um. Never mind. I’ll leave you to your coffee.”

Makoto took a step to run away from embarrassing himself further, when a white blur darted between his legs. Detoured from his escape, Makoto watched a cat climb onto the bench beside the musician. 

“Oh! You have a cat? Does he or she have a name?” Immediately he felt stupid - of course the cat had a name if it really belonged to him!

Scratching between the feline’s ears, the musician replied, “Shibuonpu.”

Given his profession, it seemed appropriate. “That's so cu-- I mean, clever.”

Fingers moved from the cat’s head and trailed straight down its back to a black patch of fur. The attention had Shibuonpu raising for more and revealed it's completely black tail.

Like a quarter note.

He smiled, growing fonder of the cat by the second. “Can I pet Shibuonpu?”

For a moment the violinist stilled his hand. “She doesn’t usually-”

Shibuonpu removed herself from his hands and towards Makoto’s beckoning fingers, using her owner’s knees to get to him. It was then that the musician moved his violin case from the bench and allowed Makoto to sit beside him.

When he did, Shibuonpu jumped on his lap,  _ politely _ asking for affection by baring her head.

“Doesn’t normally like other people?” Makoto finished, a small chuckle in his throat. 

“Normally she runs away when she sees others by me. Or hisses.” 

“I’ll happily take being the first she’s friendly with.” As much as Makoto wished to stay and sit and be with the violinist and cat, he had to return to work. He tried his best to not frown at his adult responsibilities, though failing as his hand slowed at stroking Shibuonpu’s fur, purring and all. “I’ve gotta get back before my co-workers come looking for me. Before I go, uh. You play beautifully.”

The response was a flat stare, coupled with a tinge of pink on his cheeks. His blue eyes then darted to the cup in his hand, then raised it, as if saying ‘You told me, already.’

“I really mean it! Is Shinjuku one of your places you like to play? I like to listen when I can…”

“Shinjuku, Ikebukuru, Ueno. Anywhere I want.”

“Oh.” So it was by chance he saw him in the places he did. No actual route or schedule. Completely arbitrary. “Well. If you want a good cup of coffee, please stop by again?” 

“I haven’t tried it, yet.”

“You’re right, sorry. Maybe I’m biased cause I work there, heh.” Honestly he still had time in his break, he was just finding it worth it to avoid more awkwardness. Carefully he extracted the cat from his lap and set her on her owner’s. She meowed her dissatisfaction. Makoto stood up from the bench, turning towards him. There was one more thing he wanted to know to satisfy his curiosity: “I-if I see you again… what’s your name?”

The musician popped the drinking cap of the cup and finally took a sip. His features were naturally stoic, but Makoto detected the hint of a smile as he pulled it away from his lips. “Haruka...  Nanase.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Nanase-kun. It’s nice to put a name to a face.” Would he avoid him now that he knew his name? Or would he just out of how strange Makoto was? Still, he had to be polite and introduce himself in return. “I'm Makoto Tachibana.”

“Thank you for the coffee,” Nanase-kun said, taking another sip. “Tachibana.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Twitter and Tumblr @ Mamodewberry!  
> 


	4. Sonata

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto learns an appreciation for music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your patience ;A;

“Friend of yours?”

Makoto startled at the question. Could he and Nanase be considered friends? He had his name at least, though only one successful conversation made them acquaintances at best. “Um. Sort of.” He hoped it was okay to assume that much. 

His co-worker, Rei, adjusted his glasses, confused at the non-answer. “I’ve never seen him before, and you rushed out with a coffee in hand.”

How long had Nanase been playing around Tokyo? “I’ve seen him playing the violin at the stations, lately. I was just thanking him.”

“Ah, a minstrel. That was very kind of you, Makoto-kun.”

For as lovely as the music was, Makoto didn’t feel the coffee was equivalent. Especially if there was a chance he’d keep bumping into Nanase. Would he get annoyed if he kept thanking him in coffee?   


He turned to the window to watch Nanase finish off his cup and toss it in the trash bin next to the bench he’d been seated at. Shibuonpu weaved around his feet while he shouldered his violin case. A few steps and Nanase disappeared from view. 

Makoto hoped he really enjoyed his coffee. 

 

The rest of Makoto’s shift went by without incident. After the morning rush, the rest of the day remained relatively quiet until late afternoon. By the time crowds picked up he was on his way to classes. 

“Were you going to attend the book club function on Friday?” Rei asked, also punching his time card at the end of their shift. 

“Oh right! I need to double check what assignments I’ll have due for Monday. My roommate wanted to see a movie on Sunday, so I’ve got to make sure I’ll have time. I’ll let you know?”

It was more information than Rei needed to know, but he smiled as Makoto clamped his mouth shut, embarrassed. “A text or a DM in the forums will suffice.” 

Though their majors were different, they shared a love of literature and attended the same club. And through their friendship of the club, Makoto recommended Rei for the open position at PEACE six months ago. He was a year younger and in biochemistry, an odd friendship at first glance, but Rei’s patience and intelligence was a comfort that Makoto appreciated in his small pool of friends. “Yeah, I’ll let you know, tonight.”

 

After seeing Nanase that morning, the lack of him at either stations to and from university didn’t leave Makoto feeling disappointed. Even a low score on a quiz didn’t let up his mood, nor the busy train on his commute home, or a car’s passing sloshing water from a puddle on his pant leg. 

Makoto entered the residential area and walked along the railing of the Kugayama river. The spring storms had raised the water level, grass stalks submerged more than Makoto saw the rest of the year. In a few months the fireflies would gather around the water’s edge. 

Warm weather. Yukata. Festivals. Music. 

Nanase playing the violin on stage to the scents of yakisoba and taiyaki was a nice thought. 

_ “You get happy over the simplest things.” _

The smile that he’d held on his lips lessened at Sachiko’s voice from his memories. 

Was it wrong? 

No, Rin told him it wasn’t. Multiple times when the guilt tried to gnaw at him.  _ “People that find joy in the small things are great. You get excited over a rainbow, she gets excited over a price tag. Different strokes for different folks. Honestly I wouldn’t be surprised if she was jealous.” _

Makoto appreciated the sentiment, but wasn’t convinced. He was childish, after all. 

Was Nanase a ‘small thing’? He broke the monotony of the life Makoto lead in Tokyo. A puzzle he only had corner pieces for. Small, chance encounters had Makoto hoping they could someday become friends. 

Unless he scared Nanase away by being too annoying. 

Makoto bit his lip and pushed off the railing and veered towards the rows of apartments. 

He scaled the steps and inserted the key to his quiet apartment - Rin wouldn’t be home until later, thus it was his turn to make dinner. It was something he had a long way to go in by way of confidence, but at least he could concentrate on a recipe and the results than the swarming doubt.

An hour later - turning the television on, checking the recipe, prepping the ingredients, and cooking - Makoto had two bowls of oyakodon set on the table. One ready to eat, the other covered with a pot lid for when Rin returned home. 

He took a bite, finding bits of burnt rice and yolk not yet solidified. It was edible, just not as good as Rin made it. Someday he’d get the hang of it. Or get used to eating mediocre food forever. 

Once dinner was eaten, Makoto returned to the kitchen to clean up the dishes, electric stovetop, and counter with the television as background noise. Even when he brought his backpack to the couch to start on homework he wasn’t sure what was on the screen. White noise was just fine with him. 

His goal had been to complete two worksheets for the night, but when the sound of the door opening startled him awake, only half a sheet had been completed. 

Rin closed the door behind him, phone held to his ear. “Yeah. Just come over after your shift in the morning. N-no, I’m not going to stay on the line. I don’t need your boss on my ass again. Love you, too. Night.” Pop of shoes coming off heels, slippers slapping on the tatami, Rin entered the living room. “In here and not in your room, huh?”

“Yeah. Change of scenery. Then I fell asleep.”

“Bad day?”

Makoto shook his head. “Not really.”

“Some really?”

He sighed. Rin could be so cheeky. “It was  _ fine _ . I made dinner!”

“I can smell it.”

“... That bad, huh?”

“Not like that. Jeez.” Rin loosened his tie and removed his jacket across the back of his chair and took a seat. 

“Did I hear that Sousuke will be over in the morning?”

“Yeah. Probably after you’ve already left for work, though. Crash for an hour, take a quick shower, and we’ll head to classes for the day. That okay?”

“I just didn’t make enough to have leftovers…”

“No worries; he’ll get something on his way here, I’m sure.” Rin uncovered the lid on his dinner, condensation dripping onto the table. He poked it with chopsticks and took a bite. It’d been sitting for a few hours, so of course he decided he need to put it in the microwave. “Anything good on?”

“I … couldn’t tell you.”

Rin hummed and removed his plate and came to the couch to shove Makoto’s homework aside. A few moments of watching, what Makoto assumed was some sort of drama, Rin took the remote to flip through channels while he ate. 

Neither of them kept up with what was currently airing. Too busy. If it didn’t come with their internet package, they probably wouldn’t have TV at all and stick to streaming services. Still, sitting in front of the TV together was comforting in its own way. 

It didn’t take long for Rin to give up and click the TV off and toss the remote to the coffee table. “Looks like you’ve got some work to do anyway.”

Makoto nodded at the remainder of his assignment in his lap in defeat. 

“Good job with dinner. We’ll work on your rice technique. You’re definitely improving.”

“Oh good!” Makoto sank into the couch. “I don’t want to poison you or anything.”

“Eh, even your worst cooking didn’t do that, and you’re past the point of reverting.”

“Thanks!” With a smile on his face. Makoto picked up his school bag and assignment to finish in his room. Pulling the zipper closed, he paused. “Hey, Rin?”

Rin stretched over the back of the couch to set his plate and chopsticks on the table. “Yeah?”

“Do you have any classical music?” It was probably a rhetorical question, but he hoped he hadn’t just set himself up for a night of 20 Questions. 

“We talking Queen or Beethoven?”

“Oh, um, Beethoven.” Queen was rock, weren’t they? 

Rin pocketed his phone and opened up his music library. “Looking for a specific song? I’ve got a lot of the well-known ones. Mostly Baroque and Romantic.”

“I’ll take whatever you want to give me!” He honestly had no idea what those meant. 

“Wanting study tunes?”

“Yeah. I’m curious if it’ll help.” Curious if it’d help him at school and a way to get to know Nanase. 

 

Rin shared his entire collection of classical music over their cloud. He was so excited to get listening, he spent more time toggling through the songs than working on his worksheets. Had he not been distracted, he would have finished much earlier. 

The late night was worth it, however; he managed to track down the first song he heard Nanase play; Concerto in G Major: III. Allegro by Antonio Vivaldi. As well as some familiar tunes he now could put names and composers to. Overnight he felt much more educated. 

On the train to work, after getting up to let an elderly woman take his seat, Makoto inserted his headphones and turned on a Best of Bach album. Pretty. Relaxing. 

At the station he let one earbud fall for the off chance Nanase could be around. Even as he exited and crossed the street, looking back to the bench they sat at yesterday morning. Nothing. It was just as it had been; never in the same place twice. At least, in the same week.

Would Nanase ever stop by the coffee shop again or was he only passing by that day for somewhere else to play? 

Classical music echoed in Makoto’s mind even as the modern music from the shop’s playlist played on. Would the manager mind playing a classical station?

No, that was too much of a personal request.

“Were you just humming Toccata to Ed Sheeran?”

Makoto looked up from his sweeping the floor to the woman on her laptop. Had he really been that loud? He blushed. “I guess I was! Sorry about that.”

Chuckling, she scoot her mouse away for easier access to her coffee. “It’s fine, just not what I expected. Cool mash-up, though.”

“I didn’t even realize it! No disrespect to Mr. Sheeran, I promise!”

The rest of his shift he was more mindful of keeping his new obsession to himself. 

When the time came for him to hang his apron for the day, he received an email from his professor that class had been cancelled. 

That left him two hours to kill. 

Was it worth looking for Nanase? A sign he should? 

Another moment of consideration and Makoto was taking the Yamanote line to Ikebukuro. He exited the station to the main street for the music note monument. It seemed like a perfect place for a musician to go; treble clef statue, stone paths, shady trees, and plenty of foot traffic. Much to his disappointment, Nanase wasn’t there. 

Immediately he ruled out the park across the electronic store he found him the first time they spoke, and continued down the road along the underpass to Higashi Central Park. There were usually a lot of cats, so if Nanase wasn’t there, he’d at least have a place to entertain himself for a time. Feline friends and reading. He wondered if Shibuonpu would get along with other cats. Artists liked to sit and draw and paint for hours in front of the tiered fountains and rock formations. It’d been a while, but he’d also seen guitarists seated on the stone benches, too. It was a tranquil spot in the middle of a busy city. 

In the middle of the day with school still in session, the park was mostly deserted, say for cats and businessmen on lunch break. Makoto walked along a row of trees, watching cats play with leaves and acorns that had fallen.

And then he heard the plucking of a strings.

Makoto walked towards the sound, getting more excited with each step. How could he have gotten so lucky with a hunch? He took a left at the end of the row of trees to find Nanase at the north entrance of the park, pet and case set on an adjacent bench, getting into position.

Now tuned, Nanase held the violin at his chin, eyes closed. Makoto held his breath in place and waited for a song to begin. 

Waiting.

Waiting.

And waiting.

For… what?

Did Nanase see him and was now trying to get him to go away? Had the coffee been that bad or was Makoto becoming too much like a stalker?!

Before his mind could come up with more reasons, Nanase started to play. 

Makoto let out a sigh and quietly continued to the bench next to the one Nanase was standing by. He didn’t want to disturb him. 

Shibuonpu took notice and sauntered towards Makoto. She rubbed against his legs and just as he leaned over to pet her, she zipped out and around his reach to leap onto the bench and perch onto his lap. How quickly the cat had grown to like him was an honor! It was there she allowed his hand to scratch her ears. 

While his hands busied, Makoto focused on the melody, trying to identify the song. Rin admitted he owned most of the well-knowns and his favorite composers, so it wasn’t too surprising Makoto didn’t recognize it. Maybe he’d get to a point that he’d be able to tell the composer by the style of the piece being played. 

Around them, Makoto saw eyes turn their way. Good. People should listen to good music. 

At the conclusion of the piece, Makoto applauded in awe. “That was amazing! What song was that?”

Nanase cradled his violin and bow in one arm as he turned to face him. “It doesn’t have a name.”

“Oh. An anonymous composer?”

“No. It was… impromptu.”

“Wait, you made that up on the fly?!” Shinbuonpu startled at Makoto’s voice and jumped to Nanase’s lap. 

“Anyone can do it.”

“I sure can’t! Okay, I can’t play any instrument at all. But if I did, I’m sure I couldn’t. Nanase, that’s a really incredible gift you have.”

He turned his head to the side, black hair covering his eyes for a moment, then he came to sit next to him. “Actually… the city tells me its song.”

Makoto tilted his head to the side. “It tells you?”

“Every city… every person has a song inside.”

“And you’re able to play them for all to hear?”

There was no nod or shake of his head to confirm it. Was he being modest about his skill?

“Is that why you wander Tokyo?” Makoto asked. “Playing Tokyo’s song?”

To that Nanase nodded. “Heavily populated. People from all over the world visiting. Cars and trains. To many; it’s only noise.”

Makoto was one of those many and could feel himself sinking in guilt. Growing up in quiet Tottori, it was a large contrast to what he was familiar with. He didn’t mind it, but he wasn’t at all used to it. But if he thought of it all as music, maybe…

“I’ll show you.”

“S-show me?”

“The song. Close your eyes.”

Deciding it best to not question the sudden seriousness of his voice, Makoto did so. 

“Listen.”

To everything? Makoto sat up straight, exhaled and held his hands in his lap. 

To his left he could hear Shinbuonpu purring. A breeze rustling through the trees. A distant car horn. A bird tweeting. The flowing water from the nearby fountains. A pair of footsteps moving towards and away from them. 

A mosaic of sounds. To a trained musician like Nanase, Makoto would take his word for it. Still, he couldn’t help frowning that what he heard wasn’t pleasant like Nanase’s violin. 

As if reading his mind, Nanase started to play. 

The sound cut through all the others and then it was accompanying them. Car horns became trumpets, wind rushing by via cars or through the trees like flutes, steps like percussion. The quiet afternoon created something slow and calming like the beginnings of many classical numbers Makoto had come to learn about in the last twenty-four hours. What did the song sound like at rush hour? How different did Ikebukuro sound different than Shinjuku?

Ikebukuro’s song came to an end with a high note that rang through the park. Until it turned shrill with a  _ TINK _ .

Makoto opened his eyes and looked beside him to see Nanase’s violin in his lap, a bow string snapped. 


	5. Interval

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto helps Haru repair his violin and gains some trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *leaves a new chapter in lieu of S3*

The music was gone and replaced by Shinbuonpu’s low growls. Did she feel her owner’s distress? The look on Nanase’s face was breaking Makoto’s heart!

“Your… violin,” Makoto offered uselessly.

Nanase didn’t react to him, just continued to stare at the instrument and its snapped strings. 

What could Makoto do to help? He knew very little about instruments, let alone fixing such delicate things but- “Oh! There’s a music shop a- a few station north of here. Maybe they can help. Um. I’ll show you!”

Nanase didn’t move immediately. It wasn’t until Makoto placed a hand on his arm and Shinbuonpu joined with the tap of her paw that he even stirred. 

Blue eyes, though troubled, relented and put his violin away in its case and stood to let Makoto lead the way. 

Makoto fought the impulse to grab his hand. Silly, but he was in a hurry and maybe tugging him along could help in this situation.

Or it just sounded nice.

Why it sounded nice, he was confused on. 

Shinbuonpu kept up, mewing occasionally up at them. The more she did it, the more Makoto was convinced she could be some sort of emotional support cat. 

Paying Nanase’s fare, they crossed the gate and boarded the next train. Nanase clung to his violin for dear life as they stood in the packed car. It was very obvious he wasn’t a fan. 

Makoto tried his best to wedge himself between Nanase and the crowds. It must have worked some, as his death grip on the case loosened the further along they went. 

Soon they were at their stop and made way for the exit.

Taking a moment to remember which direction the music store he’d seen in passing was, Makoto gave his distracted companion a nudge.

Wordlessly Nanase walked inside the store with him, but struggled going further than the door. 

“It’s okay. We’re just going to talk to someone th-”

Nanase frowned and brows furrowed. 

Did he not like the shop? Didn’t like leaving Shinbuonpu outside? Bad memories, maybe, or did he just really not want to talk to anyone else?

Maybe if it just needed new strings, they could find the string section and get replacements. That didn’t seem too hard. Anything to get Nanase to stop being so upset. 

Using the helpful signs, Makoto located the row of hanging, bagged strings. 

Oh, they were labeled. Which string was the one that was broken? A, E, D, or G? Could you mix brands of strings? Maybe he should buy a whole new set just in case. Nanase was too in shock to offer help, it was all he could do. 

Going off of price and how pretty the packaging likely wasn’t the best way to identify the quality of the strings, or if it’s what Nanase wanted… 

It was rude to impose on preference, but his musician friend had watched him browse and take off the hooks and go to the register to purchase them. He did specifically look for ones that weren’t for beginners!

Once out of the shop, Makoto presented the paper bag with the strings inside to him. “I’m sorry about your violin… it broke while you were trying to teach me. I felt responsible for helping you replace it. I hope these are okay.”

Nanase took the sack and looked at the packaging with as much concentration as Makoto had in the store.

Puzzled and also… sadness?

“The violin was my grandmother’s,” Nanase finally said, somber, feeling the package between his fingers, reading the label. “I was on the last set of strings she’d given me.”

“Oh.” How he’d acted was for sentimental reasons. Change. How sad. “I’m sorry if these don’t work as well…”

Nanase studied the package in his hands again. “I haven’t used anything else before.”

“We can return them? Oh wait, something like that probably isn’t returnable. Um, I’ll get you something better!” It wasn’t wise to spend another impulsive three-thousand yen on a stranger, but he didn’t feel right having witnessed it all and walking away.

Carefully Nanase put the strings back in the sack and wrapped them within, balanced the case on on his chest, opened the storage compartment and placed them inside. Closing the case, Nanase held it at his side, then looked down at Shinbuonpu who took to rubbing against his leg. “I’ll…” his mouth then closed tightly. 

Makoto patiently waited for his shy friend to continue.

Nanase let out a quiet breath, and tried again, eyes briefly flashing towards Makoto. “I’ll… I’ll use them. Thank you.”

A warmth budded in Makoto’s chest. “You’re welcome! I can’t imagine you not being able to make beautiful music anymore.”

He huffed at the compliment. 

Makoto glanced at his watch. “Ah! I’m sorry, but I have a class to get to, now. Thank you for playing for me, earlier. Sorry again… I hope those strings will work out. Um. I’ll see you around?”

For a moment Nanase looked unsure, then nodded. “Around.”

Makoto took peace in the small promise and left the musician and his cat. 

 

Afternoon lectures were uneventful and honestly could have easily been skipped. Makoto could have spent more time with Nanase. Not knowing when he’d see him next got harder with each time. 

On the train home, he turned on a collection of Handel.

Dinner was ready to be on the table once he walked in the door.

 

With the homework load being light, Makoto allowed himself to attend the literature club gathering. 

They were a good group ranging from Freshmen to Seniors with varying majors, many inviting friends along for plans after. Some in relationships, some complicated. 

Makoto knew most of them, went to study groups and shared classes, but Rei was really the only one he’d call a friend.

Haruki Murakami’s  _ Kafka on the Shore _ was the book of the month they were to be reading and discussing throughout the month. Murakami-san’s works were among Makoto’s favorites and he didn’t care how cliche’d that made him. There were usually cats and music and he liked that. 

Maybe that was why he was taking a liking to Nanasa so much.

Liked talking to him. Befriending him? 

It wasn’t long before the journey of Kafka was dropped in favor of shop talk and who was into who. 

When Sachiko was still around, that was the reason she came. 

_ “Why would I read a book? There’s enough happening around me. I can’t sit and read about someone else’s life!”  _

Because characters in books were incredible people that Makoto could only dream being like. Took him places he’d never be able to afford or too wild for his own imagination. 

“Tachibana!”

Makoto startled from his thoughts and turned to Kuroba. “Oh, sorry. What did you say?”

“I asked if you’ve seen a short blond guy around Ryugazaki.”

“Like at school, or…”

“N-no he does not attend our university,” Rei said, adjusting his glasses, turning a little pink in embarrassment. “He’s come by PEACE a few times in the last month and he’s very…”

“Cute?” winked Kuroba.

“ _ Persistent _ , is what I was going to say. He has far too much sugar in his coffee, and my warnings only seem to make him order more! I’m only being a concerned barista.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t stop you from doing the same to Tachibana. I’ve seen his ‘coffee’.”

“What’s wrong with my coffee?” Makoto asked. 

Rei and Kuroba fixed him with a flat stare. “There’s hardly any coffee left once you put all the creamer and milk and sugar, man.”

“O-oh. But I like mochas...”

“With three more pumps of chocolate and caramel.”

He had to duck his head at that, fiddling with the bookmark in his copy of  _ Kafka on the Shore _ . Okay, maybe he did have a bit of a sweet tooth.

“ _ Anyway _ . I think you like that shorty, Ryugazaki.”

Makoto couldn’t recall seeing Rei interacting with someone fitting the description, but maybe it was on days he was off or stocking the back room. He’d have to see it for himself. Not to confirm with the group, because clearly Rei wasn’t okay with admitting it, but to look out for him in the workplace. 

 

All day Saturday, Makoto kept an eye, and ear, out for Nanase. 

He never showed. 

Neither did the mysterious short and blond boy. 

On the way to the movies at Sunshine City with Rin on Sunday, there was still no sign of Nanase. The street traffic was heavy on weekends, that was good for a listening ear, but not if you hatedcrowds like Nanase. Weekdays had to be the better day to catch him. 

“Are we meeting up with someone that I’m not aware of?” Rin asked once they stood in line to pick up their tickets at the kiosk. 

Makoto turned to face his roommate. “No.”

“Is this more of that thing you’re fixated on that you keep not telling me about?”

“Why isn’t Sousuke coming?”

“Don’t dodge the subject, Makoto.”

“...Kind of.”

Rin handed him his ticket. “And you’re still not going to tell me.”

“It’s really hard to explain.”

“Well, I hope you figure it out because you’re hella distracted, lately.”

“Sorry.”   


He clicked his teeth and said nothing else. Rin was good at knowing when he had to drop a subject, even if he was still miffed about not being filled in. 

“So where is Sousuke today?” Makoto ventured again.

“He was asked to switch with someone his nightshift for dayshift. It’s fine, though; he probably wouldn’t like this movie, anyway. He’ll come over to the apartment later.”

Assuming Sousuke wouldn’t like  _ Evergreen Love _ wasn’t exactly true. He’d enjoy the movie fine, but it would never compare to seeing Rin’s reactions to it. He was incredibly invested in love stories and would sob in the theater and be weepy the rest of the day. Makoto didn’t mind accompanying Rin in Sousuke’s stead.

And would be happy to report any notable instances to him later. 

The credits rolled and Rin was wiping his eyes into his own sleeve, trying his best to put on a brave face. Makoto patted his back, having shed his own quiet tears over Sayaka and Itsuki. 

A skill he learned when he was dating Sachiko.

“I can loan you the book it was based off of if you want,” Makoto offered once they were outside the theater and Rin was more or less presentable.

“Maybe… Was it just as sad?”

“It goes into more depth.”

“I’ll think about it. I’d probably ruin your book.”

 

Expecting to see Nanase sooner than usual just because he bought him a new set of strings was unrealistic, but Makoto couldn’t help being hopeful of it. 

Kindness went a long way!

Usually. 

It wasn’t until the Tuesday morning rush that Makoto saw him. 

Nanase sat on the same bench across the street, only this time deliberately seemed to be waiting. He remembered that Makoto worked here. And he was waiting for him.

“Isn’t that your friend from before?” Rei asked.

“Y-yeah.” Why did he have to be at work  _ now _ ?

“The rush is over. Did you want to take a break?”

Makoto briefly wondered how obvious and desperate he looked, then smiled and nodded in gratitude instead. 

“I’ll keep watch.”

“Thanks, Rei.” Makoto turned to the opposite counter to start making a cup of coffee for Nanase. Plain like last time and one creamer cup tucked in his apron. “I’ll be back in a few minutes!” he called back to Rei, who shook his head and chuckled until he was drowned out by the door chime.

Makoto crossed the street and Nanase honest to goodness looked up from petting his cat in his lap to watch him approach, a hint of a smile on his lips. 

Nanase really had come on purpose!

“I brought you another cup,” Makoto said, handing it to the hand that reached for it and sat beside him. 

Shinbuonpu hopped onto Makoto’s lap, immediately meowing for attention. Good to know he was missed. 

Nanase accepted the cream and poured half into his coffee. After a few swishes, he recapped it and held it in his hand. The pair sat in the quiet for a several moments before Makoto spoke. 

“How do the new strings sound?”

“I replaced the one first.”

“Oh. So how does it sound?”

“Good. Rich. I think I need to replace them all but…” His hold on the cup tightened. 

“That’s more of your grandmother you have to let go of.”

Surprise flashed in his eyes, then he looked away with a solemn nod. 

“If you don’t need to replace them, then don’t. Keep them for as long as you can. I just didn’t want you to not be able to play at all.”

“Mmn.”

“The violin was your grandmother’s? Does that mean you come from a family of musicians?”

He visibly tensed at that, neck and shoulders straining together, he squeezed the cup hard enough to pop the top off. 

Makoto reflexively reached in his apron for napkins to wipe up the hot coffee that landed on Nanase’s arm and hand, though he didn’t at all appear phased by it. “Ah! Be careful. I’m so sorry!”

The frown stayed on Nanase’s face even while he allowed the clean up and the cup to be placed right back in his hand. 

“I’m sorry, that was a really personal question. You don’t need to answer…” Makoto made a mental note to not bring up his family ever again. 

He shook his head, but Makoto wasn’t sure if it was out of forgiveness or an answer to his question. At least he didn’t seem mad  _ at _ him. 

Shinbuonpu retreated from Makoto to Nanase and pawed up to his chest to headbutt his chin. She was such a good cat.

She received a soft smile from her owner, who then scritched between her ears. 

Makoto watched the two of them, content to let Nanase recover.

Though maybe it was fine to head back to work in this case. He couldn’t risk upsetting Nanase further. Or getting fired. 

He wanted to ask when he’d see him next, but maybe he just had to wait to be pleasantly surprised again. 

“I’m glad the strings worked. I’ve got to get back to work now. Enjoy your coffee and I’ll see you around?”

Nanase looked up from Shinbuonpu to give him the response he had outside the music shop: “Around.” Although he sounded like he believed it more that time.

With a wave, Makoto made his way back across the street and nearly ran into someone heading towards the front door. 

A short, blond someone. Was it the one Rei had been talking about?

“Sorry about that. Here; let me get the door for you,” Makoto took hold of the door handle and the smaller boy gave him the sugariest grin and entered with a skip in his step. 

When Makoto looked back across the street, Nanase was gone. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to follow my Personal twitter @sharlynnshida or my fandom dump account @mamodewberry!


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